![](https://res.cloudinary.com/jerrick/image/upload/d_642250b563292b35f27461a7.png,f_jpg,fl_progressive,q_auto,w_1024/609b9f81c99922001ef7c998.jpg)
Though I may be colourblind,
still I see in you,
the ruddy tint upon your lips,
your fingertips turn blue.
Today will end and so it slips
into the grey behind.
And though I may be short of sight
I will not be fooled.
The colour in your cheeks has drained,
purposefully cooled;
the windows in your church were stained,
but now are black and white.
It’s true my eyes are duller now
but I can face the truth.
The grass is always greener, dear —
the burden is the proof.
Spin me yarn of dirge and fear,
prepare me for the plough,
though I may be colourblind
now I know the dark,
you cannot pull me from the light
and coax me to your ark,
for I will drown with pure delight
in the colours of my mind.
About the Creator
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.